


Glitter on the Front Porch

by nubianamy



Series: The Love Shack [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Pre-Poly, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt can't figure out why Puck is building an igloo in the Hudson-Hummel's front yard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glitter on the Front Porch

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2014 Fuckurt Advent Calendar, day 4.
> 
> Fluff and smut, folks. That's all you'll find here. For once, I've written nearly uncomplicated Fuckurt-flavored Puckurt. It's set in a kind of nebulous first season winter. This is how things might have been different, if Kurt's first kiss had been with someone else.

“Uh, mom?” Finn ducked his head through the doorway and shook the snow off his hat onto the floor of the foyer. “Why is there a pile of snow bricks in the middle of the yard?”

“I have no idea,” his mom said absently. She turned the page of her magazine and shivered. “Maybe you should ask Puck. He’s the one building them. Would you please close the door?”

“He’s gone already,” said Kurt. He walked over and shut the front door. 

“Thank you, honey. I’m going to get dinner ready in a little bit, if you would please set the table.”

Kurt sat in the chair by the window, looking out into the front yard. “Why _is_ Puck building snow bricks in the front yard?”

“He said it was because his sister kept destroying them when he tried to make them in his own yard.”

“He said. Meaning you think it’s for another reason?”

She smiled over her magazine. “You’re a good listener.”

“I wonder how he gets them to stay together like that,” Kurt murmured. 

“It’s pretty cold out there.”

He sat at the window and watched Puck and Finn argue and position snow bricks over a trench dug in the ground and throw snow at one another until it started to get dark. Eventually Carole set down her magazine.

“After you set the table, why don’t you ask Finn if Puck wants to stay for dinner? They must be freezing by now.”

Kurt put on his wool coat and tucked his red scarf around his neck. The snow was piled high enough that he had to go around to the front sidewalk for Finn to hear him. 

“Are you building an igloo?” he called.

“Yep.” Puck stacked a smaller brick on top of a larger one.

“Why?”

“Because it’s winter. In winter, that’s what you do.” He explained this with exaggerated patience, like he was talking to a moron. Kurt frowned. 

“Carole said you should stay for dinner.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“We’ll come inside in a little bit,” said Finn. “Want to help?”

“No, thank you. I’ll pass on frostbitten fingers.” Kurt waved his gloves, backing away. 

Both boys were laughing and red-faced when they came in, taking up too much space and leaving puddles of water in their path. Kurt didn’t realize he was staring until Carole nudged him. 

“Set the table,” she murmured.

He blushed and hurried to do that. 

“That igloo is really taking shape out there,” said his dad over dinner. 

“It’ll take a couple more days before it’s done,” said Puck. “Luckily, it’ll be cold enough to keep it from melting until then.”

“You should have built it with us, Kurt,” said Finn, smiling at him. “It was awesome.”

Puck went home after dinner. That evening, Kurt half-paid attention to the reality show that was on about teacup dogs while reading instructions online for building better igloos. 

“Where’s Finn?” Carole asked, sitting down beside him.

“Out with Rachel.”

“Mmm. How’s that going?”

“How should I know? The ways of heterosexual courtship are a mystery to me.”

“You don’t have to snap at me.”

“I wasn’t snapping." He shut his laptop. “I’m going to bed.”

Finn didn’t come home until long after Kurt had turned his light out. He lay there, listening to Finn settle into the bed beside him. His sigh was big enough to fill the whole basement.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“I guess.” Finn shuffled onto his side. Kurt could see his morose face in the dark. He wished he dared do something about it. 

“The igloo was great, though.”

Finn brightened. “Yeah, it really was. That was so much fun.”

 _That’s how you should feel after you come home from a date,_ he wanted to say. _You should be smiling like you were today at dinner._

Kurt fell asleep thinking about Finn’s shining, rosy cheeks and amazing smile, and dreamed of ways to keep him smiling.

* * *

The next time he saw the igloo, it was taller than his head. He stopped Puck in Glee to ask him about it. “How did you get so much of it done?”

Santana stared at him, which was no wonder, considering he and Puck never spoke to one another. Puck just shrugged. “I skipped class.”

“You went to our house and worked on it during school?”

“Sure. Priorities, you know? Fuck school. There aren’t too many consecutive cold days like this.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Santana asked, but Puck grinned at Kurt like they had a secret. It was kind of strange, but not in a bad way. 

“You have to bend the bricks in, on an angle, for it to form a dome,” said Kurt. “But you need someone to help hold them up.”

“Finn’s gonna do it,” said Puck. “After school.”

“Finn’s got a date with Rachel.”

“Then he’ll do it _after,”_ said Puck, in that exaggerated-patient way.

Once Puck had spoken to him like that, Kurt wasn’t about to explain how Finn always came home late from his dates with Rachel, and especially not how he was usually unhappy when he did. He ignored him for the rest of Glee. 

But somehow, Puck managed to get the igloo sides done on his own. When Kurt came outside to invite him over for dinner again, per Carole’s request, he was nowhere to be seen. 

“Puck?” he called.

“Inside,” came a quiet voice.

Kurt knelt down and crawled through the tunnel opening, sloped upward to keep the warm air in. Puck was sitting inside, holding a flat bottle of something noxious. Kurt wrinkled his nose, but he sat down gingerly next to Puck anyway. 

“It’s actually warm in here,” he said. 

“Duh,” Puck muttered.

He looked up at the symmetry of the construction, the hole at the top, the translucence of the walls. Everything sparkled a little, like it had been dusted with glitter. “It’s really pretty.”

“Yeah. Yay for me.” Puck took a long drink from his flask. 

“The two of you did a good job.”

“We always were a fucking awesome team. Finn started picking me first for teams in second grade. I never let him down.”

“Until you slept with his girlfriend and got her pregnant,” said Kurt. Then he wished he hadn’t. It wasn’t the look on Puck’s face; that didn’t change. It was the way his fingers tightened on the bottle in his hand. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Puck shrugged. “I totally deserved it.”

“Maybe. But I’m still sorry.” Kurt pointed at the bottle. “So why the long face?”

Puck let out a snicker. “That joke. About the horse who walks into a bar, and the bartender goes…” He dropped his head onto his knees with a groan. “God, I am so fucking trashed.”

“You really shouldn’t drink alone.”

“Well, then, you can keep me company.” Puck tried to pass the bottle over to Kurt, but he held up a hand in denial.

“I don’t drink. Is this why you built this thing? So you could have a place to drink without anybody bothering you?”

He snorted. “I could just drink at my house. Nobody cares what I do.”

“So why, then?”

“The looooove shack,” sang Puck, holding up the bottle to the sky, “is a little old place where we can get to-geth-errrrrr…”

“Love shack, baby?” Kurt said, deadpan. Puck nearly fell over cracking up. “Seriously, why?”

“Can’t a guy just want to build something awesome with his best friend?” He drank again. “It’s a fucking winter tradition.”

Kurt tucked his coat more securely under his butt. It was warm enough inside that he was starting to worry about the snow melting. “Why do you have to swear so much?”

“ _Fuck_ isn’t swearing. _Fucking_ is fucking awesome.” Puck said it long and slow, pronouncing all the consonants. “ _Fuck.”_  

It made Kurt shudder to hear him. “You’re talking to the wrong person. I honestly don’t see the appeal.”

“Hey, you’re gay. You get automatic buttfucking. That’s bonus awesome.” Puck leered at him until he turned away in disgust. “Seriously, you don’t dream about making out with, I don’t know, Ashton Kutcher or some other hot dude?”

“No,” Kurt said. “Never Ashton Kutcher, anyway. And I’ve never kissed anybody, other than Brittany, and she doesn’t count.”

“Hey, don’t knock making out with Brittany. She’s got some moves.” Puck was watching him curiously. “You’re really not interested? See, I don’t get that. Guys do all the best stuff. They give better hand jobs, and you can circle jerk with them, and they let you give them blow jobs. Because nobody’s gonna turn down a blow job, no matter how straight they are.”

Kurt stared back until Puck took another drink. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, dude. I’m just pulling your chain.” He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Fucking Rachel. Why’s he wasting his time on her, I gotta wonder. She wouldn’t let me do _anything._ Can’t imagine she’s letting _him_ have any more access.”

“She’s not.” He avoided Puck’s eyes. “He sleeps in the same room as me. We talk.”

Puck waited for a few moments before demanding, “Well?”

“And he’s not happy.”

“Because she won’t put out?”

“No. I don’t know. Because —“ Kurt snapped his mouth shut on _because he’s with the wrong person._

Puck gave him a resigned nod and drank again. “Yeah. You don’t have to explain.”

Kurt watched him warily. “No?”

“Finn’s impossible. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Or you either, for that matter.” He went to take another drink, and tossed the empty bottle across the frozen floor. “Everybody should be fucking. Instead everybody’s being stupid and lonely.”

Kurt felt like anything he could ask would be the wrong question. “I should probably go.”

“No, wait.” Puck shot out a hand and grabbed Kurt’s wrist. Kurt looked at his hand where it was gripping him. “You don’t have to go. I’ll stop being an asshole.”

“You’re not. I’m just feeling inadequate.”

Puck laughed. “Because why?”

“Because everybody wants to be — to be _kissing_ —“ He wasn’t going to say _fucking._ “— except for me.”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Puck reassured him. “Kissing’s nothing. Here.”

Before Kurt could do anything at all, Puck leaned over and kissed him. Kurt stared at him, unable to move.He could taste the alcohol on his lips from Puck’s mouth.

“See? There.”

“What the hell was _that?”_ Kurt shouted. Puck blinked at him. 

“You wanted somebody to kiss you.”

“Did it ever occur to you I wanted my first kiss to be _special?”_ he spat. “With somebody who _meant_ something, who — who _cared_ about me. And you stole it from me!”

Now Puck looked uneasy. “Hey, dude, it’s not a —“

“It is to _me.”_ He scrambled to his feet, slipping on the smooth icy surface. “Don’t. I can’t talk to you right now.”

He felt like he was never going to get the taste of alcohol out of his mouth. After brushing his teeth for about eight minutes, Kurt shut the door to the basement and cried by himself until Finn got home, when he made himself stop crying and pretend to be asleep. Even when Finn nudged him and said, “Hey, Kurt, are you awake?” he didn’t respond. Eventually he fell asleep for real. 

* * *

He didn’t talk to Puck the next day at school. Friday night, he sat on his bed and manicured his toenails while Finn got ready for his date. 

“And what are your plans tonight?” Kurt asked.

“We’re going to the movies. Does that feel good, what you’re doing?”

“It feels good after. The thing between my toes is kind of weird, but it’s worth it. What are you seeing?”

“I don’t know. We’ll pick a movie when we get there.” Finn gave a half-shrug. “Rachel doesn’t like the same stuff I like.”

“So why do you go to the movies? Seems like a waste of money.”

“Because she’ll let me smell her hair and touch her boob at the movies.”

 _You could take her into the Love Shack,_ he almost said, and snickered to himself.

Finn looked at him funny. “What's funny?”

“Nothing,” Kurt said. “Have fun on your date.”

“Thanks.” Finn sighed. “Have fun with your… toenails.”

They were satisfactorily smooth and well-shaped by the time Kurt heard his dad call from upstairs, “Hey, Kurt, okay to send Puck down?”

“What?” he muttered. He felt a little flutter of unease, then called back, “All right?” He looked around quickly, but his room was tidy, even Finn’s portion. 

Puck was carrying a box in front of him. He set it down on Finn’s bed and took a deep breath.

“Okay. So I woke up this morning, and realized some things. One, I was kind of a jerk to you last night.”

“You weren’t, really,” Kurt said. He wondered what was in the box. “You were just drunk. You were actually kind of nice. As nice as you’ve ever been to me, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you should have that. I’m not really a jerk, not to my friends. And you were being nice, listening to me, asking me what was up, and I wasn’t telling you. That was the second thing.” He clasped his hands in front of him, looking penitent. Kurt realized Puck was wearing a nice shirt and a tie -- an actual tie, not a clip-on. 

“Why are you all dressed up?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to do this right.” Puck took another breath. “My sister pointed out to me that most people care a lot more about this kissing stuff than I do. Maybe it’s because I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t know. But if I fucked it up for you, I want to fix it. So here’s me, saying I’m sorry.”

Despite himself, Kurt was charmed. “All right. I accept your apology.”

“Okay.” Puck nodded. He turned and opened up the box, pulling out a photo album. He gave Kurt a meaningful look. “I’ve never shown this to anyone before.”

“Oh.” Kurt was immediately curious, but he wondered if maybe he didn’t want to see it. “That’s really nice of you?”

Puck sat down on Finn’s bed, and Kurt sat beside him. The photo album was brown, the plastic cracking on the edges. It had been fixed with masking tape. Puck opened it reverently to a picture of two boys spraying each other with hoses. Kurt could tell immediately who they were. He reached out and touched the taller boy, smiling.

“Finn was tall then, too,” he said. 

“He didn’t get really tall until ninth grade,” Puck told him. He had a funny smile on his face, kind of wistful and a little embarrassed. “This was second grade. He had the best laugh.”

“He still does,” said Kurt, but Puck shook his head, smiling.

“No, no. Back then, when Finn laughed, it was, like, everything in the world was funny.” He turned the page. “This is Finn’s eighth birthday. And this one is when we went to play laser tag for the first time.”

“This whole book is about Finn?”

Puck looked even more embarrassed. He nodded. 

“Because… he’s your best friend.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Because, even in elementary school, I wanted to make a scrapbook about him.”

“And build igloos with him.”

“For him,” Puck corrected softly. “Except he’d rather be on a date with fucking Rachel.”

 _For him._ Kurt swallowed his own embarrassment, opened his mouth and said, “I was mad at you because I wanted Finn to be my first kiss.”

Puck nodded. “I think we all knew that in Glee.” He nudged Kurt with the shoulder of his nice shirt. “It kind of pissed me off to think that you might get a shot at it when I never did.”

“Yeah, no. He’s not going to do that with me any time soon.”

“I dunno, Kurt. I’ve seen how he smiles at you. I do all kinds of shit to make him smile at me like that.” He shook his head briskly and shut the scrapbook, setting it carefully back into the box. “So, you asked me last night why I was drinking, and that was why.”

Kurt tried smiling. “Sounds like we have something in common, then.”

“Yeah. One big dumb thing.”

“He’s not really dumb.”

Puck laughed. “Yeah, Kurt, he really is. But so what? He’s got a heart the size of fucking Australia, and even if he never wants to get in my pants, I know he loves me.”

“Yeah,” said Kurt. “Me too.” He hesitated, then he reached over and hugged Puck. Puck seemed startled, but he hugged him back. “I’m sorry he doesn’t want that.”

“I’m not totally convinced he doesn’t? I’m kind of counting on the long game here. Maybe someday he’ll wake up and realize just how hot I really am.” He gestured at his shirt. “See exhibit A.”

Kurt nodded. He couldn’t disagree. “Are you dressed up for Finn, then?”

“No, that’s the other part of this. So that kiss, you told me how you wanted it to be. How it should have been, in your head?”

Kurt nodded again, somewhat reluctantly. “I have a lot of expectations about how things should be. Unfortunately, having expectations provides me with plenty of opportunities to be disappointed. This won’t be the last time it happens to me.”

“Well, that’s kind of a glass-half-empty way to look at it. I just think of it as an opportunity to improve. So, if you’d let me try?”

“I don’t understand,” Kurt said, but then Puck leaned forward, placing a careful hand on Kurt's jaw. He smelled, not like alcohol, but like toothpaste and cologne and teenage boy. He wasn’t forcing it, he was just waiting there. He was giving Kurt an opportunity to say no. That, more than anything, led Kurt to lean in and press their lips together. 

It was a gentle kiss, and Puck didn’t push it beyond that, even when Kurt made a little noise and relaxed against him. He hadn’t realized that his _lips_ could have so many sensations, especially not ones that showed up in other places in his body. 

Puck watched Kurt’s face closely as he sat back. “Was that a little better?”

“Better,” he said. “Yes. Um.” 

Puck tilted his head. He really did have a devastating smile. “Maybe you’d let me try again?”

This time, Kurt could feel a little wetness on Puck’s lips, but instead of being scary or gross, it just increased the sensation inside him, that thing that was connected to his lips, and Kurt could only think, _more of that._ He opened his mouth, letting his tongue lick out against Puck’s, and heard Puck’s appreciative moan.

“Kurt,” Puck whispered. Puck’s hand slid up the side of his face to cup his head, and Kurt wanted more, he wanted to be inside that kiss, to feel the slip and slide of their lips and to be opened up and swallowed into it. 

“Wait,” he said. Puck waited. They were both breathing a little hard, and even that sensation of breath against lips made Kurt want to be kissing him again.

“You want to stop?” asked Puck. “Cause this feels pretty fucking good to me. What do you think?”

Kurt licked his lips again. Puck watched the motion of his tongue, his eyes dark and restless. 

“I don’t want to stop,” he said at last. 

He felt a little bad that he’d kind of rather be kissing somebody else, but he figured if Puck _also_ wanted to be kissing somebody else, and it was the _same_ somebody else, that was probably okay. In any case, his thoughts and concerns were beginning to slip away in the sensation of Puck’s mouth. Puck’s mouth was astonishing — but it was both their mouths together that was making him a kissing convert. 

When he felt Puck’s hand on the back of his neck, he didn’t think anything of it, but then Puck’s kisses shifted from his mouth, to his jaw, to the tendons of his throat. All the ticklish spots in his body had suddenly been transformed into erogenous zones. 

“Okay,” he said, when he felt Puck’s hand on his thigh, “that’s — that’s a whole other thing, and — oh god.” Puck had grasped Kurt's hand and placed it in his lap, alongside something very warm and very firm and --  _throbb_ _ing_. 

“You jerk off,” Puck said, “right?”

“Never in _front_ of anyone,” Kurt whispered. 

“Well, this is kind of like that. Except hotter. I mean, Kurt, fuck, I’d totally do anything you wanted, but… this is your kiss, okay? You call the shots.”

He nodded, his throat tense. “So if I said _please stop now,_ we would stop and it would be okay?”

“Sure, yeah.” Puck sat back, still looking incredibly handsome in that shirt and tie. Kurt didn’t look down at Puck’s lap. “Except I hope you’re gonna jerk off thinking about what we're doing here as soon as I walk out the door.”

“Oh,” he whispered, “I — yes. I might — yes. I’m going to do that.”

Puck’s guttural noise just about killed him. “Yeah. I’m gonna do that too.”

“What… _are_ we doing here?” Kurt was feeling a kind of withdrawal from the touch of Puck’s skin. He wondered what would happen if he said _take off your shirt and get on top of me._ Puck would probably do it, considering he’d said _I’d totally do anything you wanted._ “I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“You want to stop and figure it out?” Puck asked. “Or maybe we could do some more kissing first? I promise I’ll keep my hands off your dick, until you decide you want that.”

 _Until,_ his brain gibbered. _Until. And then Noah Puckerman wants to touch my —_

“I think I’m not thinking very clearly,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I could use a little time.”

Puck was already nodding. “Sure, yeah. It’s cool.” 

It was impossible not to notice the elongated bulge in Puck’s jeans when he stood up, right next to Kurt’s face, but Puck leaned away, giving Kurt plenty of room to put space between them. 

“Puck,” he said, and Puck stopped, looking at him. He didn’t appear to be upset. “I’m just checking. This wasn’t —? I mean, you did this to say you were sorry.”

“Well, the first time was for that. The second and third and everything after that, I didbecause you’re hot, and I wanted to kiss you.”

“Okay, yes. That’s — why I did it too.” Kurt gulped. “Okay. That’s all I had.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurt. Thanks for listening and stuff.”

He watched Puck go up the stairs and disappear around the corner. He had a very nice rear end. Kurt had never really thought about Puck’s rear end before, but now he wished he’d taken the chance to touch it while he had it. 

Then he shut himself into the bathroom. It took about five minutes to do the thing he’d said to Puck that he would do.

Then he took a shower and did it again, taking longer this time, and spent most of it imagining his hand on Puck’s rear end, or Puck’s hand on his crotch, or his on Puck’s. All of those things were suddenly very, very hot in his imagination, and they were made hotter by the idea that he might actually get to _do_ them at some point. 

He had no idea who to talk to about this, but he felt like if he didn’t say something to somebody, he might go a little insane. It was likely his dad would have opinions about the fact that Puck wasn’t doing this out of love — but then, neither was he, and so far he felt okay about it anyway. In fact, Puck seemed to be doing this out of _like,_ and that was almost better as far as Kurt was concerned. 

When Finn got home, Kurt was waiting. He seized Finn by the arm and dragged him down to the basement. Finn went along with it, but he was clearly confused.

“I’m going to tell you about what happened tonight,” Kurt said. “But I can’t tell you who it’s about. I mean, it’s about _me,_ and somebody else. And you don’t get to ask who. But I’m going to tell you details. Are you ready to hear them?”

“Maybe?” Finn looked a little scared. “Are you okay, Kurt? Did somebody hurt you?”

“No. No.” He ran his hand through his hair, laughing. “There’s a boy. He kissed me. We kissed. There was kissing.” 

“Oh, wow!” Finn gave him a huge grin. “That’s really awesome. Right? I mean… _was_ it good? Can I ask you that?”

“I said details, right?” Kurt closed his eyes, his cheeks burning. “And yes. It was good. It was — way better than I ever thought kissing would be.”

“Kissing is pretty great,” Finn agreed. He looked so desperately curious. “Is he… do I know him? I’m sorry, you said I couldn’t ask. Are you going to see him again?”

“Yes. Probably. I — well, I wasn’t sure what to do with where he wanted to take it? Like, how do you say _no_ when you really want to say _yes?”_

Finn looked confused again. “I’ve never said _no_ when I wanted to say _yes._ Well, maybe once. But I usually don’t want to say _no._ Did you want to say _yes?”_

“I think so,” said Kurt. “My, um. The rest of me did.”

“And he wanted to do that?” Finn looked impressed. “Dude, why _did_ you say no?”

“I don’t know,” he moaned. “I felt like an idiot. I’ve never done any of this stuff before. Finn, I barely wanted it at all before yesterday. And now I do, and it’s like — what does that mean about me?”

“It makes you human?” Finn said doubtfully. “I dunno, Kurt. I think most people kind of like sex. Do you think he’s cute?”

Kurt wouldn’t have had an answer to that the day before, but at the moment, hot on the heels of his first ever make-out session and two frantic bouts of masturbation, he knew. He nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

Finn looked a little surprised by that, but he nodded. “Okay. And you, like, want to do sexy things with him? I don’t even know what guys do.”

“It’s not so different,” Kurt said. “Kissing and touching and, um.” He got a little lost thinking about Puck’s mouth, and what it might do on other parts of his body.

“Yeah.” Finn laughed, squirming visibly. “Dude. That’s not really helping after the date I just had.”

“Sorry. Yeah.” He sighed. “Maybe I should have said yes.”

“You’re gonna get a chance to see him again, someday?”

“Yes. I will.” Just saying that aloud to Finn made him feel better. “I don’t need to rush things. Thank you for listening.”

“Hey, you listen to me complain all the time. I think you get to do that sometimes. And way to go, man.” Finn held out a hand to be fist-bumped, and Kurt did, feeling a little silly, but smiling anyway. “I’m glad for you.”

Finn took a little longer in the bathroom than usual, but for once, Kurt wasn’t thinking about what he might be doing in there. He slept blissfully and restfully all night, until morning.

* * *

Kurt woke up early the next morning to a text on his phone from an unknown number. 

_Its P. Meet me in the love shack in fifteen?_

He smiled, shaking his head. _What are you planning?_

 _Show up and find out,_ Puck replied. 

Kurt decided he’d rather fulfill his curiosity than play hard to get — whatever that meant, considering he wasn’t actually playing anything at all. He got up quickly and dressed, making sure his breath and the rest of him smelled reasonably good, bundled up in his scarf and gloves, and grabbed a blanket on his way out the door.

It was cold outside, colder than it had been the night before, but inside the igloo was a little warmer. It grew warmer still as he began to move around. The blanket provided him with a place to sit that wasn’t going to leave wet spots on his pants. He settled in to wait.

He didn’t have to wait long. Puck crawled inside, smiling broadly. “Hey. I brought a candle.”

The candle was very pretty, but it also put out a remarkable amount of heat in their enclosed space. Kurt put his hands over it, like it was a campfire, and Puck laughed. He sidled up to Kurt on the blanket, putting an arm around his waist.

“I’m feeling kind of nervous,” said Puck. “Which is not my usual, so. Thanks for showing up, ‘cause I’m thinking you’re probably kind of nervous too?”

“Surprisingly not,” Kurt said. “Maybe it’s because I’m not scared of letting you down? I have no idea what you want.”

“Well, that’s easy.” Puck smiled again. He faced Kurt and kissed him. 

It _was_ easy, as it happened. The kissing felt familiar, way more than Kurt supposed it should after one night together. He tasted Puck’s mouth, less pristine than it had been last night, coffee and cereal mixed with toothpaste. It was not at all gross. He let his tongue lick along Puck’s bottom lip, and when that drew no complaints, he tried his teeth. Puck’s breathing hitched, then started again. His gloved hands came forward and drew up against Kurt’s stomach. 

“I want to touch you,” Puck said, “but it’s fucking cold out here. The only thing that’s warm is my mouth.”

“Your mouth is very warm,” Kurt agreed. Then he realized what Puck was saying, and he stuttered to a halt. “You want —?”

“I’m gonna ask, anyway. Everybody tells me that no means no, and I’m gonna have to believe them. Sometimes when I say no, I really want somebody to talk me into it, but… I’m willing to hear it from you. So what do you say, Kurt? You want a blow job before school?”

“Yes,” Kurt said. He repeated it, just in case it wasn’t a loud enough answer. “Yes please god.”

Puck looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

There was something about being in the igloo, isolated and separate from reality, that made it easier to say things to Puck. Kurt kissed him again while he drew Puck’s gloves off.

“I went to bed feeling kind of guilty and sad that I hadn’t said yes to you touching me last night. Or letting me touch you. Because oh my god, that was hot.” He exclaimed a little at Puck’s cold hands, but he put them under his sweater on his skin, and they began to warm up quickly. 

“Yeah, it really was. I’ve done stuff with a bunch of guys, but never like that.” He was already kneeling on the blanket in front of Kurt, helping him take his pants down. “Good call on the blanket. You wanna lie down? Might be kind of cold.”

“Might be.” The cold air on his hips was a welcome distraction from the embarrassment of taking his pants off in front of another boy. But then Puck’s mouth was on him, wet and warm and hungry, and it was all he could do to stay upright. He put a hand on Puck’s head, feeling the rhythm of his motion, and stifled his noises against his other hand. 

Puck’s hands gripping his ass were much warmer now that they’d been resting on his stomach. He felt the pressure of Puck’s throat, swallowing him down with apparent ease. He tossed his head back and let himself make one unadulterated, loud moan. 

Puck wasn’t talking, of course, but he was present, looking up at Kurt with eyes as hungry as his mouth. His fingers were doing things that made Kurt wonder how he could ever have doubted wanting — _anything._ Because all of it sounded good at the moment, all of the nasty, squick-worthy acts that Kurt had ever heard about in any context. He just wanted Puck to do every single one of them. 

“Puck,” he whispered, “Puck, okay, that’s definitely going to — ohmygod — you’re going to make me —“

Kurt had never taken an opportunity to come three times in twelve hours. It didn’t seem to matter to his body that he had. Maybe blow job orgasms were particularly special? He had no idea, but he was definitely willing to find out by asking Puck for lots and lots of them.

Puck pressed his cold cheek against Kurt’s belly, making him squeak, but he rested his hand limply on Puck’s head, so he’d know he didn’t want him to move.

“That,” Kurt said. 

“Yeah,” Puck replied smugly. “Everybody always said I was good at that.”

It was an easy choice to clutch Puck against him rather than worry about the snow. He gently eased Puck down until he was lying, fully clothed, on top of him. Puck’s body was firm all over, especially the part in the middle of his jeans. 

“You’ve really done this with other boys before?” He had to wonder who _everybody_ might include. “Not that I would ask you to out anybody.”

“Well, good, because I wouldn’t. The Puckmeister don’t tell, no matter who asks.” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking remarkably comfortable for being in a room made of snow. “Well, okay, you asked and I told, but not about anybody else.”

“You really did. You came out to me.” Kurt smiled at him, and when Puck kissed him, he decided he had no right to complain about his own taste on Puck’s tongue. “I thought that was very brave. And sweet.”

“That’s me,” Puck snorted. “Seriously, it was just what I should have done in the first place after I joined Glee, but I knew there was this thing with Finn.”

“Finn. Yes.” Kurt couldn’t feel too bad about Finn at the moment. “I think I’m ready to give up on that idea.”

“Hey, no,” Puck protested. “Are you kidding? Now we’ve got the big guns. You plus me has got to be better than Rachel any day.”

Kurt laughed, shaking his head in surprise. “Finn’s made it very clear he’s not interested in boys. Especially me.”

“Check _me_ out, Kurt. Assholes are made, not born. Why do you think I was dumping you into the trash at the beginning of the year? I was trying to be “clear” that I wan’t interested in guys either. Only it wasn’t true.” Puck looked thoughtful. “I’ve got a plan. Or the beginning of one, anyway. But we can talk about that later.” 

He leaned in closer, kissing Kurt with more urgency. Kurt sighed under the pressure of his body. The motion of Puck rocking into his hip was making him think of lots of things. 

“I don’t know if I can do — what you did, as well as you did.”

“Hey, I wasn’t looking for you to do anything you don’t want. You want to get me off, you let me know.”

“I want to,” Kurt said. He watched Puck’s eyes widen. 

“Yeah?”

“I want — a lot of things.”

“Well… mmm. Cool.” Puck looked absolutely flustered. “Then I think you’d better warm up your hands under my shirt before I take off my jeans.”

Kurt found out that running his hands over Puck’s chest and stomach generated some of the best sensations he’d ever felt. Puck didn’t seem to be minding it either, regardless of how cold Kurt’s hands were. He wriggled and squirmed under Kurt’s touch, reminding Kurt of nothing more than a big, strong puppy. It made him laugh with delight. 

“The nipple ring,” Puck said. He reached down and unzipped his jeans far enough to get one hand inside his briefs, making an urgent noise of encouragement as Kurt slid an uncertain hand over the pierced nipple. “Touch it… yeah. Harder. Fuck — I’m gonna come in about five seconds if you do that.”

“Oh,” Kurt said. He bit his lip, unable to take his eyes off Puck’s hand, hidden under fabric as he jerked himself steadily. “Would you… can I watch?”

“Fuck,” Puck said again, a broken whimper. He rolled onto his back as Kurt sat up. Even as he reached hesitantly for the hem of Puck’s shorts, Puck used his other thumb to tug the waistband down beneath his balls. That was as up close and personal as Kurt had ever been to another boy’s private parts. He wasn’t sure what to do other than reach out and interlace his fingers with Puck’s, sliding them up and down his shaft. It felt a lot like his own. 

 _My own was just in Puck’s mouth,_ he thought, with acute awareness. When Puck came over their connected hands, jerking his hips up off the blanket, Kurt was almost sorry he hadn’t knelt down right there and _gone_ for it, himself. He doubted Puck would have minded. 

“You’re so hot,” Puck mumbled. Kurt let his hand drop to the blanket, astonished.

“You really think so?”

Puck began to laugh. “You doubt me? Kurt, there’s never been a hand job this hot. You made me come in, like, two minutes. I could come again if there wasn’t school.”

“Maybe we can do it again after school?” Kurt found himself saying. 

Puck vanished quickly after that, carrying his candle, but Kurt got a text from him as he made his breakfast.

_Hugging and a kissing, dancing and a loving…_

When he giggled, Finn grinned at him suspiciously. 

“Is that… who I think it is?” 

Kurt laughed harder. “I doubt it.”

Going to school, after being made to feel that good, was a little surreal. Nothing much had changed. Puck was just as loud and obnoxious as usual, and Finn was just as heartbreakingly beautiful, but Kurt was practically impervious to any negativity. He simply smiled at everybody, especially at Puck’s periodic texts.

“What does it say?” Mercedes asked at lunch, when three of them came through in rapid succession. 

“This one?” He shrugged, still grinning. “ _Hurry up and bring your jukebox money.”_

It was a little embarrassing to be sitting across the lunchroom from Puck as Mercedes and Tina burst into "Love Shack," but when Kurt saw Puck hiding a smile under his hand, he relaxed and even joined them on Fred Schneider’s part, doing a little chair dance. 

Puck’s text afterward made his heart skip a little: _So fucking hot._  

He never thought that had been a possibility, but finding out somebody felt that way about him made him feel ridiculously powerful and daring. 

 _You are too,_ he replied. _Meet me in the love shack after school and I’ll show you how much._

The blanket was still there when Kurt arrived. He felt a little turned on and high on anticipation. This couldn’t be anything like what Finn felt before dates with Rachel. Or — maybe he did, but every time, Rachel disappointed him? That thought made him feel even more bad for Finn. 

“How are we going to convince Finn of what he’s missing?” Kurt asked, when Puck squeezed in through the tunnel opening and joined him on the blanket. He accepted a kiss or two, but didn’t let Puck get too distracted. “If you really think he’s missing it.”

“I think he’d _be_ missing it, if he let himself think about it,” said Puck. “Making out with your best friend, that’s got to be better than making out with some chick.”

“I think you only think that because _you_ like making out with boys.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know I would like that so much until I tried it?” Puck chafed his hands together, blowing on them to warm them up. Kurt reached out and took them in his own gloved hands, holding them close to his chest.

“Thanks for the texts today,” he said. “It made things a lot less weird. You’re really being very nice to me.”

“Like I said, you deserve it.” 

This time the kissing went on for a while before Kurt drew back, breathless and tingling all over. “So how are you going to get him to try it?”

“We’re gonna show him.” Puck grinned. “I think we’re gonna have to trick him into being around and watching, though, because otherwise he’d take one look at us and he’d be out of there.”

Kurt frowned. “I think he’d be embarrassed if we did that. Like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be watching. Finn doesn’t do things he’s not supposed to do.”

Puck drew one hand out of Kurt’s and placed it over the seam of Kurt's pants. He did it so casually that Kurt didn’t feel anxious. 

“That’s kind of awesome. Nobody else talks about Finn like I do.”

“Like how?”

Puck’s eyes were very close and very green. “Like you love him.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said softly. “I don’t know why, exactly. He’s kind of clueless.”

Now Puck’s hand was applying gentle upward pressure, digging into the tightest parts of his pants. Kurt gasped, rocking into his fingers. 

“He’s good,” said Puck. “In a way I could never be. But he’s not a dick about it.”

“He’s… sweet,” Kurt went on, not taking his eyes off Puck. “Even when he messes up, he’ll keep trying to do the right thing, because that’s what he does.”

Puck nodded. “A leader. Like I _want_ to do what he says. And I just look at how Rachel treats him and I think…” He pressed a little harder. “He deserves better. So much better. Fuck, I could rock his world.”

“Oh my god,” whispered Kurt. “Please keep doing that.”

He managed to get his pants open and a hand around himself, trying not to feel self-conscious at the way Puck was staring at him. 

“Would you do this to him?” Puck asked unevenly. “Would you get him off like this? With me?”

“Please,” he said again. “Like that, like that, oh my god.”

It ended as messily as the solitary act ever had. Kurt felt a little uncomfortable when Puck took Kurt’s hand and wiped it off on the underside of his own shirt, but in a way, that was kind of thoughtful too. Puck was still staring at Kurt as he zipped himself up.

“I can tell you don’t really mind doing this,” said Kurt haltingly, “but I think — no, I know. I wish you could have it with Finn. Because he’s the one you really want, and I want him to be happy.”

“Hey.” Puck was smiling at him. “Who says I can’t _really want_ more than one thing?”

Kurt let Puck put an arm around him, holding him close to his body, until Kurt felt more warmth than cold. “Well, you know. It’s not the same thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be the same thing to be a good thing.” Puck kissed him. His lips were very soft and made Kurt feel like he wanted to cry. “Kurt, you’re a good thing.”

“I wish _he_ knew that.”

“Yeah,” said Puck. “Me too.”

Kurt laughed, pressing his cold nose into Puck’s neck. “You know, you’re kind of rocking _my_ world.”

“Just wait.” Puck held him closer. “It gets better.”

* * *

“The weather’s going to warm up this weekend,” said Carole. Kurt looked up from his history homework.

“No,” he protested.

His dad changed the channel. “Sorry, Kurt, I don’t get it. I thought you hated winter.”

“I just… the igloo,” he finished lamely. He looked out the window, feeling the first warning signs of panic. “It’s… really nice. And I don’t want it to… to disappear.”

“Snow’s kind of like that,” said his dad. “Here one day, gone the next. Anyway, you’ve had it for weeks now. Isn’t that long enough? Finn and Puck can build another one for you next winter.”

He finished his homework and sent a text to Puck. _I think we have to try it this weekend._

_Operation Get Finn’s Head Out of his Fucking Ass?_

_Operation Rock Finn’s World,_ Kurt replied. He already felt like it was a useless endeavor, but something about Puck’s attitude and drive made him feel like he wanted to try anyway. Even if it was going to change things forever between him and Finn. 

_Well, find out when we can get him alone. Imma get you alone, too._

Kurt wasn’t sure what that meant, but he said, _Okay?_

_Trust me._

“What are your plans Saturday?” Kurt asked Finn before bed, as casually as he could. 

“I’m thinking no plans,” said Finn. “Seriously, a lot of hanging out at home sounds perfect. How about you?” He peered more closely at Kurt. “Is that a _hickey_ on your neck?”

“Maybe.” He pulled the collar of his pajama top up more snugly. “Nothing with Rachel?”

“Friday night.” Finn shrugged. “She wants to go caroling. You want to come?”

“I think I might have plans,” he said. The words felt strange on his lips. He touched them, watching Finn watching his hand as he did so.

“Is this… guy?” Finn gave a little cough. “Is it serious? Should I be getting all big brotherly and protective and stuff?”

“Thank you for the thought, but I can handle this,” Kurt said. “He’s got a good heart.”

“Wow.” Finn had stopped smiling. “It really is serious. Are you in love with this guy?”

“No. No. It’s not like that.” He turned off the light. “Good night, Finn.”

Finn didn’t say anything for long enough that Kurt thought he might have fallen asleep. Then he shifted in his bed.

“You can love someone without being in love with them. You know?”

“What… do you mean?” Kurt asked slowly. 

“I mean you — somebody — _people_ get different kinds of love. People can just love each other. You don’t always get the sexy kind and the regular kind at the same time. Sometimes it’s just one of them.”

That took the energy out of Kurt really quickly. He almost reached for his phone and sent Puck a text saying _forget this, he’s totally not interested._ Instead, he pulled his covers up over his shoulder and closed his eyes, trying not to make a big deal of it. Even though it was. 

* * *

When Kurt didn’t respond to his texts the next day either, Puck came to his house. He didn’t knock or ask permission, but after his dad announced “Puck’s here,” he waited in silence at the top of the stairs until Kurt told him he could come in. 

He was surprised to see Puck carrying his guitar. “What’s that for?”

“Well,” said Puck. He set the guitar down by the foot of the bed. “I’m not saying I don’t like what we’ve been doing. I just thought you might want to do something else besides make out, if we’re going to keep dating.”

“Dating,” he said, bemused. “Is that what we’re doing? We’re dating?”

“What would you call it?” Puck leaned over and kissed him. “You okay?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt put his arms around himself and stared at the floor. “Do you think there’s a difference between being in love and loving someone?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Puck was looking at him like he was a moron again. “That’s way too much thinking for me. I’ll stick with what I know I feel.” He put a hand on Kurt’s back as Kurt glared at him. “Look, babe, you’re totally not going to get stuck in this shit. Not tonight.”

“Is that right? And exactly why should I follow your lead? Considering you’ve been so successful at getting what you want over the past six years.”

“Well, I only really figured out that stuff in the last four, so…” Puck actually looked kind of hurt. Kurt let go of his own arms and threw them around Puck, making him exclaim.

“I’m sorry,” said Kurt. He hung on tight, and felt Puck relax into his embrace before hugging him back. “I’ve been in a crappy mood since Finn said something about the difference between sexy love and regular love. Which was a pretty clear blow-off.”

“You’re not going to tell me that,” said Puck. “Or at least I’m not gonna listen to it. Kurt, how many guys have you hit on?”

“Zero,” he said.

“Yeah, and I’ve hit on about thirty or forty, and I’d guess ten times that many girls. You think I get turned down a lot? Fuck, yeah. It’s just how it goes. You try, you try, you keep trying. Doesn’t mean you compromise what you want.” He wasn’t letting Kurt look away. “You want to know what I want?”

“Is it going to depress me?”

“I sure as hell hope not.” Puck ran a hand up Kurt’s thigh, dipping a thumb into the space between them, and back down to his knee. He did it again, making Kurt shiver. “What I want's got two parts, and one of them involves being at least a little naked.”

“My _dad’s_ upstairs,” he hissed.

“Is he gonna come in?”

Kurt looked up at the staircase, and finally shook his head. “Unlikely. But he doesn’t know what we’ve done, or he’d never let you be down here with the door closed. If he _did_ walk in, he’d might not let you come over again.”

“So, yeah, maybe the love shack would be better. It'd be up to you where we do the naked part.”

He considered, conscious of Puck’s thumb, still tucked between his thighs. “And the second part?”

“Involves music. And probably a hot shower, at least for you. Seems like you get cold a lot easier than I do.”

“Not when I’m with you.” Kurt kissed him, then deliberately leaned harder against his hand. Puck chuckled against his mouth. “You seem to keep me very warm, even in a room made of ice. So I wouldn’t mind going out there, if I get to warm up with you afterward. And music?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to wait and find out.” He took both of Kurt’s hands and stood up, still smiling. 

The yard was dark enough and the igloo positioned toward the street so that Kurt wasn’t worried about his dad or Carole seeing Puck duck inside after leaving their house. He felt a little guilty for lying to them and saying he was going to Mercedes’ house, but only a little. He managed to smuggle a second blanket out as well, to layer on top of the first one, and he stuck a package of wet wipes in his pocket. After some deliberation, he added a couple condoms. He couldn’t lie to himself about what was probably going to happen tonight, no matter how shocked he was by his own willingness to rush headlong into sex.

“I had no idea how good it was going to be, when we started,” was the explanation he’d given Puck. “And now that I know, I have to wonder, why should I wait?”

“I’ve been asking that question for four years,” Puck agreed. “Waiting is stupid, as long as everybody wants it. Sex is good.”

Consent was also good, as it turned out. Puck had checked with him every step of the way, each time they’d come up against something new Kurt hadn’t tried. Having Puck whisper things like _is it okay if I bite your nipple_ or _how about I stick a wet finger inside you_ was made way, way hotter by making both of them wait a few seconds or minutes or hours longer.

A few times, Puck informed him that he also hadn’t ever tried a particular thing, which pleased Kurt to no end. Something about trying something new together was incredibly fulfilling, and a lot less scary or embarrassing than Kurt ever thought it would be. 

“You’re a really good lover,” Kurt told him one time. Puck actually blushed. “I mean, not that I have anything to compare it to, but… you’re thoughtful and attentive and motivated and creative.”

“I notice you didn’t say anything about the size of my… fingers.” Puck leered at him. 

The size of Puck’s _anything_ hadn’t escaped him. But he was completely sure Puck wasn’t going to rush him into trying to fit anything inside himself, at least not until Kurt was begging for it. He might have begged for fingers a few times now, which had been weird and a little painful and still completely compelling, and Kurt had come pretty close once or twice in the heat of various moments to asking him for more. But, as Puck had made it clear, _pretty close_ wasn’t good enough. It needed to be absolutely fuck yeah right now, he’d said, or no dice.

Puck hadn’t brought a candle with him tonight. They weren’t about to light up the igloo from the inside and let the whole world know they were in there. But just from Puck’s presence, it was already starting to warm up inside. Kurt lay the second blanket on the ground, then unbuttoned his coat and his shirt and crawled in against Puck’s similarly unbuttoned clothing to rest against him. 

“Any plans I should be aware of?” Kurt asked, when they paused for a breath from kissing.

“Yeah,” said Puck. “I want you to fuck me.”

Kurt pushed back with both arms to look Puck in the face. Even in the dark, there was enough light through the air hole above that he could see his steady expression.

“You told me you didn’t want that,” Kurt said.

“Yeah, well, a guy can change his mind, right?”

Kurt shook his head adamantly. “No. I don’t buy it. You know yourself really well. You would have done it already if you wanted to.”

“Kurt. I didn’t _not_ want to because I didn’t _not_ want to.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Puck sighed. He shifted their legs so they were sort of sitting in each other’s laps, a position that helped keep the warm air concentrated against their bodies. Now it gave them a chance to look at one another clearly, without being distracted by arousal. 

 _Mostly,_ Kurt thought, eyeing Puck’s body. Even in the dark and after weeks of fooling around, it was hard not to stare. 

“You think I was saving myself for Finn?” he asked. “I guess you might not be so far off. But it’s more like… I was saving myself for somebody who really did it for me. In all the ways that matter. You’re not an ordinary guy, Kurt, and you’ve got some of that stereotypical-gay stuff going on, which totally isn’t bad, by the way. But you’re also strong and smart and funny and ready for just about anything I throw at you, which is kind of awesome. Really awesome.”

Kurt was blushing more than staring now. “And you really want me to…?”

Puck grabbed Kurt’s hand and put it on his cock. “Yeah, I really want you to. If you want to.”

“How?” he asked, a little helplessly. 

“Just like this.” 

Puck leaned back onto the blanket, pulling his legs up against his chest and spreading them wide. It was a completely indecent position, but the way Puck was looking at him was glorious, and Kurt found himself abruptly very, very turned on. He thrust his hand into his coat pocket and came up with a condom, holding it up between two fingers. Puck’s eyes lit up.

“I — might have come prepared,” Kurt said, laughing, “but I never imagined they’d be for _me.”_

“You get to have me fucking you whenever you want me,” said Puck. He’d already begun stroking himself. “But I was kind of planning on coming with you inside me, so it might need to wait for another night.”

Kurt was grateful they hadn’t tried to do this in the basement, with the specter of his dad and Carole lurking above. Out here, at night, it didn’t much matter if they kept their voices down or not. Puck rushed the process along with urgent, fierce words: “C’mon, two fingers… just give it to me, I want it hard — like that, yeah, now three…”

But when Kurt was actually kneeling in position, with the condom between them, and pushed against him, Puck grimaced. Kurt stopped. 

“What is it?”

“The fucking rubber. I hate these things. Never used them with girls.”

“But you’re using one with me?”

“You told me that was important to you,” he said. He was talking like Kurt was a moron again. “Like I’m not going to listen.”

Kurt pushed him flat against the blanket, holding him down with one hand while he fumbled himself into Puck with the other. He made a good strong thrust with his hips, and Puck groaned. 

“You’re so good to me,” Kurt said, hovering breathlessly over his ear. “I’m going to do my best to make you forget the condom’s there. You can tell me to stop any time.”

“Not — telling you to stop.” Puck pulled his knees higher, spreading himself wider, his head lolling back against the blanket. “Fuck.”

It was equally quick for both of them, which at least kept Kurt from being mortified at his own staying power. Each moaned utterance of _yes_ or _harder_ spurred him on. When Puck lost it underneath him, Kurt did too. He thought, as he settled on top of Puck, his legs shaking, that he might finally understand the appeal of porn. 

“You looked amazing,” Kurt said, kissing Puck across his neck and face. “Sounded amazing. _Felt_ amazing.”

“You’ve got to — the condom.” Puck reached down and caught it before it spilled onto their blanket, then tied it off and threw it to the side. Then he put his arms around Kurt and hugged him for a really long time.

“You okay?” Kurt asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” 

He didn’t let go, though, not for a long time, and Kurt waited there with him until he did. They put their clothes back on slowly, stopping to kiss every few seconds. Puck was muttering something under his breath.

“What are you saying?” 

Puck kissed him on the cheek, nudging his mouth close to Kurt’s ear. _“Bang, bang, bang on the door, baby…”_

It wasn’t very late, but Puck’s presence at the house two times in one night was going to be hard to explain without an excuse. Kurt came into the family room first. 

“Hey, dad, Puck and I are going to work on a song for Glee. It’s — a surprise. Can you let me know if Finn comes home?”

“Sure thing,” his dad said. “Wow, your face is red. Is it all that cold out there?”

“I guess it was,” he managed. “Thanks.”

Puck was grinning when he returned to the front hallway. “I’ll wait up here with your dad and Mrs. Hudson while you shower.” He stole a quick kiss before sliding into a chair at the dining room table, ignoring Kurt completely.

When he came out of the shower, however, Puck was sitting on Finn’s bed, strumming a rhythmic cadence on his guitar. Kurt came over to sit by him, towel-drying his hair while he listened. 

“I can be super sappy too,” said Puck, “but I figured we at least needed to do this song.”

_If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says_  
 _"15 miles to the Love Shack"_  
 _Love Shack, yeah, yeah_  
 _I'm headin' down the Atlanta highway_  
 _Lookin' for the love getaway_  
 _Headed for the love getaway_  
 _I got me a car, it's as big as a whale_  
 _And we're headin' on down to the Love Shack_  
 _I got me a Chrysler, it seats about 20_  
 _So hurry up and bring your jukebox money_  
 _The love shack is a little old place where we can get together  
_ _Love Shack, baby_

Kurt did his very campiest and most outrageous Fred Schneider imitation, with Puck egging him on. They perfected their harmonies by the second verse and sang it again, just so Kurt could squeal, “You’re _what?”_ all over again.

“What does _tin roof rusted_ mean, anyway?” Puck asked.

“I have no idea,” Kurt said, giggling. 

Puck reached out and held out his hand. Kurt took it. They just looked at one another for a minute, smiling.

“I’m pretty sure I realized this before today,” said Puck. “But I think I need to say it anyway.”

Kurt nodded. “Okay?” 

“I always thought, things would be pretty fucking amazing if Finn ever did get his head out of his ass. I think I’m never gonna stop wanting that, really. Even after he marries Rachel and settles down to his boring hetero life.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “I think I’d resigned myself to that.”

“Yeah, I haven’t yet. But the thing is, it doesn’t matter so much anymore.” He set the guitar aside, moving in close beside Kurt on Finn’s bed. Kurt watched him carefully.

“Are you saying… you don’t want to try to get Finn to want to kiss you? Us?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying…” He squeezed the hand he was holding. “I think whatever he decides, I still feel like I won.”

Kurt pressed his lips together to keep them from wobbling. “That was sappier than any music could have been.”

“Yeah, I did warn you.” He reached out, sliding an arm around Kurt. “So what do you say? You ready to give up this stupid hiding and lying stuff and come clean?”

Kurt blinked at him. “You want to… be my boyfriend?”

Puck flashed him a wide, delighted smile. “That’s pretty much what I am. I’m just asking if you’re ready to tell everybody else I am.”

Kurt decided crying at a moment like this was appropriate. He hugged Puck again, whispering, “Yes, I am so ready for that.” Then he kissed him, a lot, and when Puck slid a hand under his robe and groped him a little, he didn’t even pretend to object.

“Now, I have to ask…” Puck leveled his gaze at him again. “Is the boyfriend thing a game-changer for what we were gonna do with Finn?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “If it’s not for you, that is. There’s just no one else who even comes close to him, in my heart.” He flushed. “Except you.”

“You don’t have to say that,” said Puck.

“No… I mean it.” He could feel the words inside him, waiting to be let out. “I don’t… I don’t want how I feel to be limited to moments of bliss. If that makes any sense.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say _I love you_ while you were fucking me.” Puck snickered. He kissed Kurt’s astonished face. “I’ll sure as hell say it now, though.”

“Well, then,” Kurt said. He laughed out loud. “You’re braver than I am.”

“That’s just totally untrue.” Puck gripped Kurt’s arms, smiling into his face. “I’ll look forward to hearing it whenever you're ready.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So what do you think? Leave it there, or do you want to hear what happens with Finn?


End file.
